


Those Hands

by sgteam14283



Category: The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Deaf Clint Barton, Gen, Second Chances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:35:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26569675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sgteam14283/pseuds/sgteam14283
Summary: Natasha had a special set of skills. So did Clint.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24
Collections: Be Compromised Promptathon





	Those Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inkvoices](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkvoices/gifts).



> Inkvoices wanted SHIELD to arrest/capture a deaf Clint and Natasha to translate and this is the result. The world can always use more deaf Clint content so I am happy to contribute to it. I tried to be accurate as possible, but since I'm not part of that community please let me know if I got something wrong so I can correct it. This is unbeta'd so sorry for any mistakes and enjoy!

Assistant Deputy Director Phil Coulson knew how to utilize people. 

He could look at their file and seem to know how to use their skills to the fullest while they were at SHIELD. When former Red Room asset Natasha Romanov appeared on the agency’s radar, he noticed from the dossier that she seemed to know multiple languages. French, Italian, Spanish, Russian, Portuguese, Romanian, German, and a number of Middle Eastern dialects. 

Once she was with the agency, anyone else would have stuck her in Analytics and had her sift through the chatter from their different outposts. But looking at Romanov’s field assessment Coulson knew that she belonged in the field.

\--  
Natasha scrolled through the dossier, absently brushing the raindrops that splattered the screen every few minutes. “ _He should be here._ ” she thought while tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Clint Barton had been on SHIELD’s radar for months, an assassin that used an honest to god _bow and arrow_ as his signature. According to INTERPOL, Barton had been responsible for at least ten assassination’s of middle to high profile targets throughout Europe and Latin America. SHIELD had spent the last five months tracking him, but whenever they thought they were close he’d give the agency the slip.

But not this time.

They’d managed to figure out where at least one of his New York safehouses were and currently waiting in the slow rain for Barton to appear. 

“ _Barton’s exiting the building. End of the block._ ”

Natasha looked up as the stakeout team radioed that he was finally showing his face. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but her muscles were grateful for the movement as she stood and crouch-walked her way towards the ledge while pulling out her binoculars. Swinging them towards the building, she soon spotted the grey hood over Barton’s face in an attempt to cover the lingering scrapes from his last job. “Got him. Anyone else nearby for extraction?”

“ _Negative. Looks like you’re going to be the closest._ ”

“ _Oh joy._ ” Natasha told herself as she lowered the binoculars and quickly stowing them and the ipad, made for the fire escape. It was noisey, her shoes thundering against the metal as she wound her way down, but the usual city sounds masked it. Jumping the last few feet, she straightened from the crouch and was heading towards the sidewalk.

“How close?” she asked before pressing herself against the brick wall.

“ _Coming up on my mark...mark._ ”

Natasha stepped out into the street and closed her hands around the grey hoodie, pulling Clint into the alley with her. Almost immediately he tried to yank out of her grasp, but she pulled him towards her and ducked when he swung a fist. Shifting quickly, she propelled him towards the wall and let go of his hoodie- letting the forwards momentum do the rest.

Clint collided with the wall and the hood fell down to reveal brown hair that needed to be cut and a bruise on his cheek that was still an ugly shade of purple. But what threw her was the purple hearing aid looped around his left ear. None of the intel they’d gotten had indicated that Clint was hard of hearing or deaf. 

Clint noticed Natasha’s hesitation and pushed off the wall, lashing out with his leg to increase the distance between them. It was clear that his Bed-Stuy apartment was burned and he needed to get out of New York as fast as he could.

Natasha snapped back to the present when she saw Barton’s leg headed towards her and instinctively caught it. She shoved it towards the ground and pulled out the Widow Bites that R&D had given her for a field test. Quickly activating them, she threw one at Clint as he made a break for the street. It latched onto him and quickly dispersed the electrical charge. Clint stumbled and fell to the ground, his head hitting the concrete and felt his hearing aid fall out. 

“ _Shit._ ” he hazily thought as the world turned into barely audible sounds.

Running towards him, Natasha quickly pulled out the restraining cuffs and got them around his wrists. Letting out a breath she stood and moved to radio the rest of the team that she’d managed to get the target, taking a step to the side and freezing when she felt something crunch underneath her boot. Glancing down she saw that Barton’s hearing aid was now in pieces and as far as she knew he didn’t have any others on him. 

“Well that complicates things.” Natasha muttered to herself.

\--  
“How did we not know that Barton was deaf?” Phil Coulson asked from his vantage point behind the one-way mirror in the interrogation room. Ronin’s dossier was in his hands and he’d gone through it multiple times while staring at the assassin who was on the other side. “There’s no mention of hearing aids or how much hearing he has. How does one of the most covert intelligence agencies in the US miss _that_?” 

Natasha shrugged, “He was hard to track, we were lucky to get eyes on him when we did. Plus he favors hats and hoodies to blend in, and apparently he bought batteries in stock so he didn’t have to always go out and buy them.”

Phil let out a sigh before continuing, “Well in any case we know it now. But the interrogation’s going to have to wait awhile because out of the ten agents who know American Sign Language, five are out in the field, two are on medical leave, and the other three are on the other side of the country and even on the first flight out won’t get here until late.”

“I know sign language and can translate.” Natasha spoke up as Phil was halfway towards the door. “I’m assuming that since you don’t know how to sign you want to take Bad Cop.”

Phil paused and turned around somewhat confused, “What do you mean you know sign language? It’s not on your file.”

“I started learning it just before I joined the agency. I didn’t put it down because I wasn’t that good, but I’ve had a few years so I’m better. But I don’t know his shorthands so it’s going to take time translating and signing everything.”

“That’s fine, as long as we get started now.” Phil said while walking the rest of the way to the door and opening it. “I’ll let you go first. I need to make a few calls.”

Clint stared at the door, not wanting to be unaware when someone came into the room. Without his hearing aid everything was muted in a way that he hadn’t had since he was younger and in the accident that basically destroyed his hearing. They had hustled him into the interrogation room once they’d reached their destination, it didn’t seem like the main SHIELD headquarters but all Clint had seen was the inside of a van and then a blank hallway so for all he knew, it could be the D.C. building. They were certainly in the van long enough.

He’d been at his Bed-Stuy hideout, letting the pressure from several different agencies (including SHIELD) die down enough so he could head to South America, heading out for a walk to a bodega for some food when SHIELD had grabbed him. “ _I should of headed for Columbia right after the job._ ” Clint thought to himself as the door opened and the redhead who’d broken his hearing aids walked into the room.

“Sorry for the wait. Needed to fill out some paperwork.” Natasha signed once she sat down in one of the chairs on the opposite side of the table. “Need anything?”

Clint raised an eyebrow at the question and signed back, “Getting out of here would be nice.”

Natasha couldn’t help but smile slightly at the response, at least like most Barton hadn’t lost his sense of humor at the door. “Sorry, the last carpool ride just left. Looks like you’re stuck here for awhile.”  
“Soda then. And the most recent episode of _Dog Cops_.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Natasha replied as the door opened again and Phil stepped in. 

“Deputy Director Coulson.” she said aloud and signed, knowing that only a small percentage of the hard of hearing community could actually read lips.

“Agent Romanov.” Phil took the only remaining seat and set the thick dossier on the table in his usual meticulous way. “Sorry for the delay, but something else required my attention.”

Clint looked at Phil as he sat down and set his file down. At least he assumed it was his file and from the looks of it, SHIELD had been tracking him for some time. “I’m flattered that I get a Deputy Director to interrogate me. Was Fury busy?” he asked while raising an eyebrow.

“What I want to know is why have Bed-Stuy as a hideout? I would think you’d go for the Bronx or something else closer to La Guardia. Or at least not an apartment building filled with regular people with just a buzzer.” 

Oh this was going to be good.

Clint had to admit that starting with the apartment was a good move, but he wasn’t going to spill his secrets anytime soon. “What can I say, I like being surrounded by the nine-to-five crowd.”

After that the questions shifted to his profession and trying to confirm or deny the numerous jobs that he might or might not have done. Clint giving glib answers but nothing to seal his fate. Not sure of how much time passed, eventually Coulson gave up and ended the questions for the time being. Stretching after sitting for so long, Clint signed something to Natasha as the guards came to take him to a holding cell.

Natasha smirked before signing something back. 

“What did he just ask?” Phil asked once it was just them in the room. He had a dull headache at the base of his neck after sitting under the fluorescent lights for so long and wanted to do anything else except go home and relax with a glass of whiskey, but he knew that there was a stack of reports on his desk that needed to be processed.

“Where he could get a good cheesesteak in D.C. I said good luck finding anything that cheap in a town of politicians.” Natasha replied, gently massaging her hands. She’d never signed this long and it showed as the hours had passed, she’d fumbled a few times and almost missigned a few words as well. But after spending so long with Clint, she was starting to pick up a few shorthands that he used and hopefully if Coulson kept her in the interrogation she could pick up more. 

“ _It would certainly make it go a bit faster._ ” she thought while walking towards the elevator, ready to go to her DC apartment and take a shower.

\--

The next few days passed in a blur of sameness; heading into the Triskelion to sign and translate for both Coulson and Barton, then up to her cubicle for a few hours of reviewing the tapes to make sure nothing got left out of the transcript, then dragging herself back to the D.C. apartment. Clint was stonewalling them, not willing to give them conclusive proof that he was responsible for the few assassinations that she knew SHIELD, INTERPOL, and a few European countries wanted to pin him for.

“ _Both my desk and apartment are seeing more use then they’ve seen before._ ” Nat thought to herself as she debated if it was too late to get Starbucks or if she should just make do with the office coffee pot while flipping through some of Barton’s older exploits. 

Then she spotted something that made her pause and sit up, waking up her computer to cross-check something. Getting confirmation, Natasha quickly printed it out and gathered the file up before heading to the printer. Then it was a power-walk to the elevator and up to Coulson’s office. “Is he busy?” she asked the new secretary, Laura.

“He’s on a call with Hill. Is it important?” Laura asked while wondering what could make Natasha Romanov appear in front of her desk. The legendary agent looked like she was going to barge through the doors if denied entrance.

“It has to do with Barton. Just tell him that and it’s time sensitive. I’ll wait.” Natasha replied before sitting down in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs she swore was standard in every waiting area ever.

She didn’t have to wait long. Ten minutes after she arrived the door to Coulson’s office opened and he stuck his head out. “In my office, Romanov.”

“Brazil, Nineteen Nighty-Eight.” Natasha said once the door was closed and held the printout to Coulson. “Barton helped to successfully evacuate an orphanage that was being used as cover for a cartel. _Then_ the head of the cartel, plus several under him, turns up dead with multiple holes in his chest- no bullets were recovered and the holes were too small to be bullets anyways. Then two years later, same MO in a former Soviet bloc country; gun runners taking advantage of a hospital turn up dead.” Natasha pulled out the relevant documents, plus more. “There’s a pattern; Japan, Mexico, the Philippines, India...they all had organized crime that died under strange circumstances and fit his MO.”

Phil looked at the printouts as Natasha talked, “So Barton wants to earn some good karma...I don’t know what you want me to do with this.”

“We could use him.” 

Phil raised an eyebrow, “He’s an assassin-for-hire.”

“So was I and look how I turned out.” 

“Your back was almost against the wall when we recruited you.”

“So is his. I know that everyone’s clamoring for his head, but think about it. If we can turn him, then we gain someone who can get in and out of countries with little fuss. You know we spent the better part of two years trying to track him down. Plus we give him a chance to use his skill set for something else other than taking the highest paycheck.”

Phil was silent as Natasha talked, then for a moment when she was done. “I’ll consider it.”

\--  
Clint saw the flashing light out of the corner of his eye signaling that someone was at the door of his cell. Sitting up as the door opened, he was surprised to see that it was Natasha. It had been a few days since his last interrogation and he’d started to think that they’d settled on extradition terms with the other countries that wanted a shot at him. “Thought you’d forgotten about me.” 

“Wanted to get you this.” Natasha signed before she set the fast food bag on the edge of the bed. “And to make you an offer.”

Clint glanced into the bag to see that it was a cheesesteak and fries. “A last meal? I thought I got to make a request for that.” 

“Not a last meal. Well, not if you accept.”

“Oh?”

“Join SHIELD. You’ll have the protection of the agency, enough to get the CIA and most governments to back off.”

“What about INTERPOL?” 

Natasha smiled, “We’re still working on them. You know how uptight they can be. You won’t have to finance your do gooding with unsanctioned hits. That’s why you live in Bed-Stuy, to look out for the rest don’t care about.”

Clint paused at the mention of his ‘other’ profession, surprised it took them this long to make sense of the pattern. Hell, he hadn’t even expected them to put two and two together with his New York apartment. Sitting back he considered the offer. Work at SHIELD and live, or refuse and get packed off to a cell where he’d eventually be tried and convicted for whatever they chose to charge him with.

“I guess I should take the job. As long as I can keep the Bed-Stuy building.” Clint spoke aloud, smiling at the surprised look that appeared on Natasha’s face. “Lost my hearing when I was twenty-five.”

“Oh. Well, I will pass that along.” Natasha replied, her fingers moving as she spoke. “And we’ll get you a new set of hearing aids. We have really good insurance.”

“I’ll tell my financial advisor.” Clint smiled as he made a shorthand gesture.

“What was that?” Natasha shot him a confused look, that was one she hadn’t picked up yet.

“Your name, Black Widow.” Clint made the gesture again, the sign for spider followed by the ‘okay’ gesture. “You need one since I have a feeling that we’re going to be partnered up together. We’ve been developing a shorthand and I’d hate to start all over with someone else.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes, but wasn’t angry, “I’ll pass it along but don’t hold your breath.” 

As she stepped out into the hallway, Natasha realized that Clint was smarter than he let on and was going to have her hands full if they were partnered up. But somehow, she didn’t mind.


End file.
